


Pretty

by chuckalicious



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bisexual Stanley Uris, Cuddling, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Gay Richie Tozier, Help, M/M, Stan and Rich love each other oKAY, they're just cute little fucks, this is... the cutest shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 07:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15044120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuckalicious/pseuds/chuckalicious
Summary: "How do I look?" Stan asked, Richie's oversized t-shirt hanging off his pale body, all the way down to the start of his luxurious thighs.Richie took a long, long look at him, taking in the sight of his best friend wearing his clothes. He thought the boy looked absolutely stunning, but he could barely find the words to express how good he looked. When Stan crossed his arms over his chest self-consciously, the taller boy walked forward and brought them back down."Pretty."





	Pretty

At 2:35 in the morning, Richie Tozier laid in bed with a small smile on his face. He was thinking about his best friend, Stanley Uris. I mean, when wasn’t he thinking about Stan? It’s difficult to not think about such a euphoric boy when he takes your breath away whenever you see him. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a tapping on his window. Normally he would have ignored it, just thinking it was a branch from a tree hitting the glass or maybe a bird slamming into it. Plus it was storming out, so perhaps there was rain pattering along the windowsill and trickling onto the window, but this time, he decided to investigate. He was just expecting to see a stick, equivalent to nothing, but that definitely wasn’t it.

Coincidentally, Stanley Uris was outside Richie’s house, wearing a soaked white t-shirt and some black sweatpants. His curls were slicked back and straight since he was out in the rain, and Richie fell even more in love.

Despite the fact that Richie had no clue why Stan was outside his bedroom window at two am, he opened the window and brought him inside. Stan’s breath hitched and he buried his face in the crook of Richie’s neck while fresh tears leaked from his eyes and his entire body started shaking. Since the situation had never happened before, the taller boy wrapped his arms around Stan’s waist and drew small circles on his back, hoping it would calm him down. He didn’t know how to comfort people that well, and he could tell Stan was really upset.

“What happened, Stan?” Richie asked quietly, not wanting to force the younger boy to talk, “If you don’t wanna talk about it, it’s okay.”

Stan took a deep, shuddering breath, and sobbed out incoherent words, but Richie caught some of them, “Kicked, b-bye, Dad, hurts.”

“Wait, what?” the taller boy furrowed his eyebrows, still rubbing his back with soft hands, “Calm down, I can’t hear what you’re saying. Can you speak louder for me?”

Another breath was taken, “M-My dad kicked me out. Because I came out as Bi. And th-then he kicked me in the side,” He whimpered, shaking his head and letting water droplets fly onto the floor.

Richie frowned and pulled back from the hug, “You must be freezing. C’mon, let’s get you some clothes.”

The raven-haired boy opened one of his dresser drawers and grabbed whatever shirt he could find, one that would later be recognized as his Ramones t-shirt, and handed it to Stan, “D’you need new boxers too?”

Stan shook his head, “N-No. I-I don’t wear boxers,” he whispered, almost inaudible to the other boy in the room. He slipped off his shirt and Richie frowned at the sight of a forming bruise right next to his hip. 

“But then what do you wear-” He started, but Stan answered the question for him. He pulled off his sweatpants and looked down at the light blue panties he had on with an embarrassed expression, looking back up at Richie.

“S-Sorry, I know it’s gross and weird. I should’ve just changed in the bathroom,” he muttered.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Richie shook his head, a tinge of pink on his cheeks as he tried to look anywhere but Stan’s lower area, “It’s cute.” 

He only gave him a shy smile before putting the shirt on, making sure he looked in the mirror before turning around and looking at the other boy.

"How do I look?" Stan asked, Richie's oversized t-shirt hanging off his pale body, all the way down to the start of his luxurious thighs.

Richie took a long, long look at him, taking in the sight of his best friend wearing his clothes. He thought the boy looked absolutely stunning, but he could barely find the words to express how good he looked. When Stan crossed his arms over his chest self-consciously, the taller boy walked forward and brought them back down.

"Pretty."

“Huh?” He raised an eyebrow at Richie’s choice of words, trying so hard not to smile.

“You look pretty,” Richie gave a small smile until Stan finally gave one back.

A blush crept upon the younger boy’s cheeks, and he looked down at the ground, “Oh, uh, thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Without a second thought, Stanley leaned forward and pressed his lips against Richie’s, just for a tenth of a second. He still savored it, though, leaning back and just staring at Richie, “Sorry.”

“God, stop apologizing,” he mumbled with a playful roll of his eyes, cupping Stan’s cheek in his hand and then kissing him, for real this time. Stan made a noise of surprise and Richie smiled through the kiss, pecking his lips one more time before he pulled away and smiled.

“Wow,” Stan blinked a few times, “Okay.”  
“You’re absolutely gorgeous, you know that?”

“I’m really not,” Stan shook his head, smiling as Richie sat in the middle of the bed and pulled him into his lap.

“How can you think you’re anything but beautiful, Stan?” He furrowed his eyebrows, “You’re adorable, babe!”

“Nu-uh,” he muttered, hiding his face in the crook of Richie’s neck and sighing, “I’m not adorable, Richie. I’m anything but.”

Richie smiled, laying back against the pillows and running a hand through Stan’s hair, “If you admit you’re pretty, you can be my boyfriend,” he whispered.

Stan looked up at Richie with a smile, “I’m pretty.”

“You are!” he laughed, causing Stan to giggle, “And your laugh is pretty, too.”

“You think so?” he tilted his head to the side.

“Of course,” he kissed his forehead, “You’re my pretty boy, Stan-Man.”

He’s Richie’s pretty boy and he doesn't want to be anything else.


End file.
